


choke

by indirectHonesty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Choking, Consensual, Dirk is... Dirk, Dubious Morality, John is Curious, M/M, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Violent Sex, only first chapter is pesterlog, please PLEASE mind the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22909270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indirectHonesty/pseuds/indirectHonesty
Summary: John has some... interesting questions for Dirk, who is only happy to assist this confused boy.
Relationships: John Egbert/Dirk Strider
Comments: 4
Kudos: 75





	1. one.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

EB: hey dirk.

EB: uno question.

TT: Dos answer.

TT: Or less.

EB: oh.

EB: okay.

EB: what does it feel like to kiss someone with glasses?

EB: like, both parties wearing glasses.

TT: A smaller kiss, and you probably won't notice. Bigger kiss, probably won't notice.

TT: If you're getting too intense, they'll almost definitely fall of.

TT: Or make an annoying clacking noise.

TT: Just need to be careful.

TT: Why?

EB: i'm just curious.

EB: like, a healthy amount of curiosity.

TT: As opposed to an unhealthy amount.

TT: Which mind you, doesn't exist.

EB: no, i'm sure it does.

EB: i could probe further.

EB: thus, an unhealthy amount of curiosity.

TT: Which means an even healthier amount of curiosity.

TT: I won't stop you.

TT: But you might stop you.

EB: i don't think you want to answer all of my questions.

EB: because, you know, i never really got to have a relationship - romantic-wise - in the game.

EB: i mean, i guess sort of?

EB: but not really.

TT: Why would that make me not want to answer?

TT: It makes me want to answer more.

TT: You need the info. I have it a lot of it.

EB: i guess i've never really gotten further than kissing a dead body.

EB: and i might like guys a bit more than i had originally thought.

TT: No shame in that. We can keep that part between us to save you the mockery from the obvious suspects.

TT: Unless you were into the corpse.

EB: i was NOT into the corpse. 

EB: i was into reviving my friends.

EB: also, did you-

EB: did you see what i wrote?

TT: What part of it?

EB: when i said i'm into guys.

TT: That's exactly what I was referring to.

TT: We keep that between us to save you the mockery.

TT: If Dave and Rose found out you were into guys this whole time, you would probably never hear the end of it.

EB: oh. i thought you were still talking about the dead body-

EB: yeah, that's true.

EB: gosh, i don't even want to imagine that.

TT: Precisely. That's especially why I ain't makin a big deal out of it.

TT: I have self respect.

EB: thanks, man.

EB: i owe you one.

TT: Only in theory.

EB: in theory?

TT: So if you do have questions-

TT: Yes, in theory. It's not a certain one you owe me.

TT: Only if I decide to actually acknowledge it.

EB: but i still owe you.

EB: anyway, what's it like to have sex with a guy?

TT: Going straight to the deep end, huh?

EB: i decided it would be better to start strong, yes.

TT: Wise choice.

TT: What end? Bottom, or top?

EB: um, i guess bottom.

TT: I'll keep it real with you. It does hurt.

TT: And it requires a lot of prep work.

TT: Although it's best if you're submissive or lazy when it comes to the act itself, don't be lazy for prep.

TT: You will regret it.

TT: Most of the pleasure you'll get is from the prostate if you aren't just into the idea as a whole of bein' fucked in the ass by a man. That's what girls who are into anal have.

TT: But while they're shoving it in, it's gonna be a weird and new feeling most likely.

TT: And while they're pulling back or pullin out,

TT: It does feel like you're shitting.

TT: Like straight up.

TT: You don't want somebody with a dick too big, unless you do.

TT: And you're gonna want to learn the angles you like best for gettin' that sweet spot hammered.

TT: Following?

EB: i think so, yes.

EB: i kind of like the idea of.

EB: you know.

EB: bluh, i'm feeling embarrassed because you're really good at explaining! 

TT: No, hey, it's cool. Take your time.

TT: What do you like the idea of?

EB: the idea of being fucked in the ass.

EB: okay- that made me lose all my bravado.

EB: but surprisingly, it makes me feel better with it out in the open.

TT: Externalising helps. Even if it sounds embarrasing to say out loud.

TT: It's that embarrassment you can work past.

TT: Or don't, some guys are into it.

EB: into embarrassment?

TT: Yeah. Everybody's got types

TT: Some guys are into the adorable and timid ones. Makes em feel big.

TT: Humiliation comes in the same domain, I guess.

EB: what kind are you into?

EB: if that's not- weird.

TT: No, it ain't.

TT: I don't know my favorites yet.

TT: Jake switched between pillow princess and powerbottom.

TT: Bastard's good at rilin' you up.

EB: do you like that kind of thing?

TT: I was into it.

TT: Although admittedly, half of me is a cruel and/or service top. And the other half of me didn't make physical contact with a person until I was like, seventeen years old.

TT: Make of that what you will.

EB: i need to search up all these terms, gosh.

TT: No shame, boss. I'm throwin a lot of words at you.

EB: i mean, it's not like i haven't explored myself.

TT: The best ways to find out is who you project on to when watchin gay porn,

EB: geez, i wouldn't know what i am.

TT: The best ways to find out is who you project on to when watchin gay porn,

TT: And then just. Having sex.

EB: oh wow, dirk, that's so simple.

EB: i shouldn't be sarcastic.

EB: you're helping me out here.

TT: Just tryin to guide somebody through the waters I waded virtually alone.

TT: I'd like to reiterate.

TT: Seventeen year isolation.

EB: i'm sorry about that.

EB: hey, this might be an intrusive question, but.

EB: are you and jake still.

EB: i don't know.

EB: together? for lack of a better word.

TT: Not entirely.

TT: He still booty calls me, I admit.

TT: But I wouldn't call it a relationship.

TT: Not really.

EB: i see.

EB: i don't really get it.

EB: do you still like him a lot?

TT: Complicated.

TT: He's still...

TT: Jake.

EB: that's complicated.

EB: i never really delved into a deep conversation with him, so i don't know.

EB: the accent gets in the way.

EB: that was a joke, by the way.

EB: but do you like it whenever you two hook up?

TT: Of course I do. But it gets repetitive.

EB: oh.

TT: Same person. Same kinks and turn ons. Almost the same positions.

TT: He's... Complacent.

TT: Gets boring.

EB: you want something new?

TT: It's who I am. Course I do.

EB: okay.

EB: i, uh.

EB: didn't have a plan for what to say after that.

TT: No, it's cool. Sometimes people just say words.

TT: Anythin else?

EB: um.

EB: how big is too big?

EB: for receiving.

TT: It turns into preference, mostly.

TT: But for average depth,

TT: You wanna call it at seven inches.

TT: Unless you have a thing for it bein bigger.

TT: And hurting.

EB: and how do i test if i have a thing for it or not?

TT: Try it when you're jacking off.

EB: what do you mean? 

TT: ... How do you jack off, John?

EB: no no, i know how to do that.

EB: i mean, for it to be bigger.

EB: like, for my ass.

EB: i know how to jack off!!

TT: No, I know that. I just wanted to check the way you did it.

TT: Next time, try that method of penetration.

EB: try- 

EB: try it?

TT: Duh. How do you think you get practice and/or jack off if you're a hard bottom?

EB: well, i don't know if i'm a hard bottom.

EB: i mean, i probably am.

EB: i don't really know.

TT: Then you gotta check. Get a toy. If not, a zucchini or somethin.

TT: Lube it up and see how you go.

TT: Maybe you're a top and don't know it. 

TT: Which in fairness, dude.

TT: It feels fuckin good.

EB: does it?

TT: Ain't ever felt anything like it.

TT: Tight. Hot. Twitching. Especially the fuckin sounds they usually make.

TT: You get carried away easy as hell on top.

TT: Plus. Power rush.

EB: oh- 

EB: um.

EB: how big are you?

TT: Eight and a half.

TT: I gotta take it easy.

EB: oh-

EB: oh.

EB: that's.

EB: that's actually big.

TT: Yeah?

TT: It ain't actually the best for it.

TT: Means I usually have to be careful.

TT: People with sixers n stuff, they can work.

EB: unless someone has a thing for it.

TT: Yeah. 

TT: Which again. Experimentation.

EB: i think it might be better with the real thing and not just a zucchini.

EB: i don't have any toys.

TT: It's also about gay porn stuff bro. See who you're paying more attention to. See what gets you off more in your mindspace.

EB: are you busy right now?

EB: like, i know you're messaging me and all.

TT: Workin, but I always am.

EB: what are you working on?

TT: Half the time.

TT: It's cybernetic enhancements for my transhumanist goals.

TT: The other half I'm makin a chatbot for Roxy.

EB: i think i'm pretty interested in what you're making for roxy.

EB: hey, have you ever made toys before?

TT: Obviously.

TT: You want in?

EB: heck yeah.

TT: What are the specifications, boss.

EB: um, do you have any recommendations?

TT: Could go basic. Realistic cock. Six inches. Kind of thick.

EB: maybe a few levels above basic.

EB: i mean, i've stuck some things up my ass before.

TT: Oh.

TT: I thought you were very new.

EB: i mean, sort of.

EB: like, i don't know a lot.

EB: but i've kinda put stuff up there out of curiosity.

TT: What kind?

EB: like a finger or two.

EB: nothing much.

TT: Nothin near big enough to hit the spot, then.

EB: no, not really.

EB: so maybe if you could make something for me.

EB: unless that's too much trouble.

TT: Hell no. I can make it no problem.

TT: Fuck, I'll make it double action.

EB: double action?

EB: actually, make it a surprise.

TT: Sure thing. I'll go wild on it.

TT: Engineering genius.

EB: i'll be waiting patiently.

EB: how do you even make them?

EB: actually no, trader's secret.

TT: 'Atta boy.

TT: You'll get it soon.

EB: how soon?

EB: not that i'm going to count the days or anything. 

EB: also, will it come with instructions? i've never used one.

TT: Adorable. I'll include a hand written instruction pamphlet.

TT: You'll need it.

EB: thanks, dirk.

EB: and i'm not THAT adorable.

EB: i mean, maybe.

TT: Trust me, you are. I've seen adorable.

EB: i might be blushing.

EB: might be.

TT: I'd like to see that.

EB: how about i come over and keep you company?

EB: while you work.

TT: If you're free. And want to see.

TT: I'll warn you, I'm makin an abomination.

EB: i don't mind. i'm curious.

TT: Then I won't stop you.

EB: i'll be over there soon.

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]


	2. two.

True to his word, John managed to get himself to Dirk's place in surprising record time. Despite what he said about 'innocent' curiosity and all his incessant questions, he really was extremely into the idea of Dirk in general - and it probably showed. So now he found himself at his doorstep, running a hand through his black hair, trying to get it to stay down to the best it could. Dirk didn't answer the door if he knocked. At the moment, hunched over a workbench again creating a dildo of an entirely new species with his engineering prowess. And upon John knocking or ringing the bell, the telecom panel beside the door crackles to life.

"Door's unlocked, Egbert. Find my workshop."

"Oh. Okay." He kind of shrugged to himself, testing the door.

It yielded, and he stepped inside, making sure to close it behind him. He glanced around for a little bit before listening for any kind of noise that would lead him to Dirk. Eventually, he found him after listening to the noises like a goddamn bloodhound. Standing still in the doorway, John watched Dirk work. It seemed as though Dirk hadn't noticed him yet, all trained, limber muscle and scars beneath his black tank top. A specialised welding mask on as he works away on a clearly phallic object at his workbench. Engrossed in it.

John knocked on the doorframe, still being as quiet as he could. Despite himself, his blue eyes began to wander, glancing at Dirk and wondering what it would feel like to touch the skin beneath his tank top. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the image. He knocked again. Shifted on his feet.

Only at the second knock did Dirk perk up a bit. Glanced to the doorway. To which he throws a peace sign from his free hand. "What's up, Egbert. Don't come too close, you'll lose an eye."

And so he nudged himself forward, positioning himself a safe distance behind his chair. He looked over. Clueless at best, he decided that he had no idea what was going on. He cleared his throat. "Well, my eyesight is pretty bad as is."

"Suit yourself. Just be careful of sparks." Without even hesitating, with John so close, he continued welding. Until he switched to soldering pretty soon after. Delicate. Perfectly steady, yet scarred hands, in fingerless gloves.

He continued to watch. It was beautiful, really. How precise he was being. It appealed to John in some way that was unfathomable, unable to be explained without speaking in a secret language that only the speaker knew. How strange, he thought to himself.

On a level, Dirk knew that exact feeling. And was happy to oblige that. Showing off in front of the other as he works. "You might want to sit down."

"Oh. Right." He looked around. "Um, where do you want me?"

"Wherever. There should be a spare stool by the computer, love."

...

"..."

Why did he-

John froze up. He blinked. Really, he didn't know what to say. Instead of saying anything, he brushed it off as a strange figment of his imagination. Because really, why would Dirk call him that? So he got out the stool from by the computer - it was exactly in the spot Dirk had said it would be - and pulled it over behind Dirk's chair.

Slip of the tongue. It could have been, admittedly, much, much worse than that. But it was still um. Embarrassing. Dirk glanced over his shoulder as he hears the other push up. But he doesn't mind. Still hunched over on his stool.  
The tanktop rides up a little with his posture, giving a partial look down at his lower back.

John looked down once. That was all it really took for his mind to switch off. It was pathetic of him, but at least he could admit it. "Dude. You're hot."

"Hm?" He straightened up just a touch, head partially turned to look over his shoulder. "Uh. Thanks, dude."

As soon as Dirk moved a little bit, John quickly became very interested in his own fingernails, picking at them. "'s fine, man."

"..."

Was this. A power play? ... Did it work? Dirk cleared his throat a bit. Huh. Before he returns to the same position as before, but now with a. Feeling in his stomach.

He snuck a look again, glancing through his eyelashes. Changing the subject, he asked, "What are you, uh, what are you working on?"

"What do you think? Your toy." The emphasis to this statement was a flash of sparks, to which Dirk didn't react at all.

"Sorry, I'm not as - skilled - as you are." He shifted on his chair, a small frown, edging on pout territory, graced his lips.

John was so fucking lucky Dirk couldn't see him right now. "I told you, I'm making an abomination. Trust me. Also, how big is your cock?"

"Um." Now that was something John didn't like to talk about. Still, he navigated around the topic like a freshly born foal learning how to walk. "I mean, it's not like, small, or anything. I guess average?"

"Don't be self-conscious, John. Also, I need a number. It's important." Another flash of sparks, and a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Okay. I guess a bit under five inches would be accurate." He was blushing furiously now, moving on to pick at the hem of his shirt. Avoiding complete eye contact.

"Five inches, then. Good size. Manageable." Dirk nodded a bit, casually, as he continues working. "Trust me, this is necessary."

He wasn't so sure. "If you say so. So, your dick is pretty big, yeah?"

"Yeah. It's a pain in the ass." ... Silence. Dirk couldn't help but crack a small grin. "... pffff--" John surprised himself by discovering that he was laughing along with him. "I bet."

A dry kind of chuckle. "Heheh, but seriously, it can get real fuckin inconvenient. Like this one- _GAGH_ -!!" Suddenly he rocketed upright, clutching one hand with the other as he nearly flung the soldering iron across the room.

John immediately ducked, but quickly looked up once he heard that the iron hit the ground. "Fuck, dude- are you okay?"

"fhhh- Shit- good, I'm good. Just another addition to the collection." He huffed, still grabbing that hand.

"Are you sure?" John reached out, not knowing what he was trying to accomplish.

Dirk didn't recoil. And John found a hand gently rested on his arm. "Sure. Sure. Just... Might need some cold water."

"Cold water. Right. I've got it."

And then he's off. It's easy to find the kitchen, even though he's in an unfamiliar place. He returns with a glass of cold water. "Here." Maybe he was quick because he didn't want Dirk to feel him shiver when he put his hand on his arm. Maybe it was because he hoped that if he was quick enough, it wouldn't scar as bad. But it was most likely a strange mixture of the two.

Dirk quickly takes the cup, immediately dunking his hand in it. Still stung, but hey, you do what you can. "Thanks, Egbert. Sorry. I got uh, distracted. Can't get distracted with tools like that."

"Maybe you need a break," he suggests, watching him carefully. "I mean, you don't have to finish that toy for me right away."

"But of course I fuckin do. It's a commission for a friend. I have to finish it fast." He finally slams up the welding mask he was wearing. Yeah, still wearing shades underneath.

John tries to hide the smile on his face. He really does. But his buckteeth catch on his lower lip and it comes out all stupid. "Do you ever take those off?"

Fuck. Fuck that's a good smile. Fuck. FUCK. Stay stoic, Dirk. "Not if I have a choice in the matter."

"And if you don't? What'll happen then?" Being the oblivious ass he is, John didn't notice the internal struggle Dirk was currently dealing with.

Easy Dirk. Easy. Easy. "I'll probably get kind of weird, to be honest. Or at least uncomfortable."

Oh. That got rid of a plan. "I get it. I mean, I get the whole eyewear thing. I kind of need mine to see."

"It's pretty different. And not that it's per se a bad weird. Just a. Weird." Tap tap tap.

"Kind of like Dave's?"

"Kind of like Dave's. But cooler."

"It's a tremendous feat to be cooler than Dave Strider." John steps closer.

"If you know how cool Dave actually is, it really isn't that impressive."

"I've been friends with him for years, and I still think he's pretty cool."

"But that's because you're nice. And don't try and destroy nice things."

He shrugged a shoulder. "So, are you considering taking a break?"

Dirk was quiet for a moment. "... Do you think I should?"

"Well, I don't want you to hurt yourself again."

"I'll take a break, then," Dirk's responded instantly, and the welding mask on his head was tossed off.

John quickly tried to hide that goddamn smile again. "Excellent."

"Alright, no need to look at me like that." A scoff, but. There's the ghost of a smile on his own lips.

"What?" His smile grows bigger. "I'm just looking out for you and your limbs."

"Yeah, but you're grinning like an idiot about it."

"Because-" He draws this out. "I'd like to hang out with you. I mean, I'm excited for this artificial dick of surprises too, but you know. Nothing beats the real deal." A blush rises to his cheeks. "And I mean the real person. The genius."

"Sure. That's totally what you meant by that." He scoffs but doesn't seem to mind at all. "I'll entertain as much as I can while I'm here anyway."

"Can you show me how to make it feel good?" John asks suddenly. Then he decides to rephrase. "I mean- with the whole fingers up the ass situation. Considering that we're standing next to something that will eventually go up my ass."

"..." Dirk hesitates. Seeming confused. "You want me to - what, stuff your ass with my fingers, or-"

He pauses, clearly trying to find the words. "You don't have to. I could use my own fingers. I just- I think maybe if you help? Instruct me?"

"This seems like a weird reacharound way to get me inside you, dude."

His mouths drops open. Then it closes. Then it opens again. He's imitating a drowning fish. "I. Well. If you want to."

Dirk tilts his head a touch more. "John. You just need to ask. I'm happy to show you the ropes. If you're into that."

He's blushing profusely now. Shit. He hadn't lied; Dirk was hot - extremely so. Taller than him and stronger than him and more knowledgeable than him in every single way. He grew weak in the knees, unable to say a word.

"Pff." He pushes closer until the two of them are a few inches apart. "Anythin to say, John? Or are you too busy thinkin about what could happen next?"

"No." Yes. It comes out as a small whine and he immediately regrets opening his mouth. "I-if you want to get inside me, I suppose so, yeah. You can do whatever you want to me. With. With me."

Dirk suddenly realised he was unbelievably into that. "Makes sense why you came around now. Just kind of needy, aren't you, John. Doesn't matter. If you're so adamant about it, I guess I could use you for a while."

His breath is coming out staggered now, unsteady, as his teeth chewing on his lower lip. "G-geez, Dirk. I- Fuck. Please."

Dirk had to try and hold himself together. ... But. Alas. He immediately closes the distance, taking the boy by the side of his face with a large hand, and with his ass immediately grabbed in the other, he pushes a harsh and eager, overwhelming kiss to his lips. With the direction he's being shoved, it's obvious that Dirk plans to fuck him over his workbench.

John's eyes fly open for a split second, realising that Dirk's lips are at his, hard and pressed close. He closes them, trying his best to remember to breath through his nose and not his mouth. His hands clutch at Dirk's tanktop, feeling the muscle underneath the fabric. He immediately decides that he likes it when Dirk's being rough, especially with his ass.

All about experimentation. And he's groping his ass hard, and eager, as he forces the other against the workbench. The hand at his face trails down as he stuffs the other's mouth with tongue, feeling over every inch as he goes, down his chest, over his waist, he wasn't pulling any punches.

The edge of the workbench is pressed hard into his lower back, his hands rising up to tug at Dirk's hair. For a moment, he wonders if the colouring is natural, but his mind is reduced to a fuzz when he tastes Dirk's tongue in his mouth, feels his hands run all over his body. And he's getting hard. Already.

A question many have wondered and nobody gets an answer to. Especially right now, as Dirk actually shoves him back and up a bit, perching the boy on the edge of the workbench as he keeps working him over, groping him, feeling him- a hand already shoved into the front of his pants.

He couldn't help it; a keening whine leaves his mouth and he tugged harder on Dirk's hair, an action he was seemingly unaware of. The cold of the workbench seeped through his pants, but that sensation was nothing compared to the hand that was there.

It actually made Dirk harder, twitching and bulging the front of his jeans at the other's pretty noise. Pressing as close as he could as he groped and gently got off the other's cock, still in his pants.

The action made him groan. In trying to silence himself, he bit down on Dirk's lip as the touches made him lose grip on the reality he was living in ten minutes ago. It was like a high - pleasurable. Better than kissing a corpse.

And one could only hope it was. After a few more minutes of harsh, needy kisses, groping, heat, friction- Dirk forced himself to break the kiss. His face a little red, with a gentle hitch to his breath. He still hadn't stopped getting off the other, though.

"Who knew you were so desperate?"

His words came out in an almost unintelligible mess - his mind was whirring at a million miles an hour, his fingers still wound tightly in Dirk's hair. "F-Fuck, Dirk. Where'd you learn how to kiss like that?" His words were interrupted every few seconds by a rolling groan.

"Jake was almost as desperate as you. ... Almost." And he proceeds by leaning in to the other's neck, only picking up pace as he sunk his teeth into the boy's neck, nearly hungrily.

A high-pitched gasp escaped his pink lips, slowly transforming into a moan. He bucks his hips into Dirk's hand, tilting his head to the side to give him room to work with. Fuck. FUCK. Dirk was better than good. He even forgot the fact that if he closed his eyes, he'd look a bit like Jake.

It was a fact Dirk had been able to avoid pretty well so far.  
Until now. It was a sudden rush of... Conflict. One side of him was turned on to no end, in an almost sick, depraved way, feeling like he's taking a smaller, cuter version of Jake for the first time again. He could do what he wanted. The other side of him was repulsed by it. Along with the horrible realisation that he has a _type_ , he's just using him as a stand-in. A step up. A younger, newer version. Dirk had to. Just stop, for a moment. Not biting anymore, not moving his hand. Just to think it over. See which painful half of him was going to win.

"... I-..."

His heart sinks. What had he done wrong? His eyes flutter open, trained on the cold surface of the workbench he was pressed up against. Confusion washed over his body, feeling the absence of Dirk's hands on his body. Feeling... odd. Lacking. He didn't know what to say, so he sat there, chest moving in. Out. In. Out.

"...I uh-" It was almost like his breath had left him. Completely still.  
No. This. This felt weird. This felt wrong, what was he doing? _You're taking advantage of this boy, Dirk. You're just trying to find a new Jake, Dirk. A cuter one, a tighter one. Or are you going to take out your anger on him? Is that what you want? Are you going to use him for sex, Dirk? Is that who you are? Are you the fucking bad guy?_

"This. ... This is a bad idea."

John's heart drops to the lowest it could have possibly gone. He was left there, mouth dropped open slightly ajar, wondering what had just happened. He thinks that he did something - of course he had. It wasn't Dirk's fault; he was the experienced one here. No, it was his fault. Shit. He messed things up again.

Dirk finally pulls himself back. No. No, he isn't the bad guy. He can't let himself be. Slowly, pulling his body away from the other's tantalising touch, leaving him once again in a familiar physical isolation. Fixing his shades. Clearing his throat. "This was a bad idea- I don't know what I'm doin. Fuck."

His hands close in, fingernails pressing against his soft palms as he straightens up. The hedonistic fog that had settled on his mind, covering every single pathway that led to a rational decision, was slowly pulling away. His throat felt tight as he said, "Was I not good enough at- at that?" He was guessing blindly. In all honesty, he was blaming himself. How could he have ever thought that this stupid plan of his could end with Dirk deep inside him.

"No. No, no, it isn't you. You're the victim here." Dirk pulls aside his glasses for just a moment to drag a hand down his face in shame. The wheels in his head whirring as they do, as Dirk begins to spiral. You did it again. You're hurting people without either of you realising, you idiot. "You're good. You're great, you're too great, I'm takin advantage of that like a scumbag."

The level of experience between them was at the forefront of his mind now. Not in a hot way, though. In a "I momentarily forgot I have a problem with control" way.

John shook his head immediately. His fingernails leave his palms, hands twitching once in an attempt to stop him from reaching out. It fails, and he does reach out. "Victim? Dirk- I'm the one who asked for it." His cheeks were burning from the recent memory, his skin prickling at ghost sensations.

"But I lead it on. Lead you here. I. No. I fuckin did this." Dirk pushes his hand away. A harsh smack, entirely by accident. It must have been him. Elaborate machinations he didn't even realise he was putting in motion. You fucking bastard. You horrible person. You didn't even realise how terrible you were being.

The hand quickly retracts, as if he had tipped scalding water onto his skin. John tries again. He had to. He needs to. "Dirk, you didn't lead me on. What? Do you think I'm that docile that I would follow your every order?" It's accompanied by a laugh. An attempt to be light.

Dirk doesn't even hesitate his response. Even as John's hand actually makes contact. "Yeah." ... It only occurs to him, moments after he said it, that that was a joke. And also not something he was supposed to confirm. You really are awful, Dirk.

He cocks his head to the side. "... That's okay. You're okay." John"It's more than a type. It's you. It's him, but it's. It's different. Spiteful. Exploitative. Creepy. It's... You're just." He trips over words again. How can he say it without saying something offensive? reaches out again, this time with both hands. He makes contact, holding tightly to his wrists. "You're not a terrible person, okay? I'm into you. That should be enough."

_Oh no. You've even fooled him this far, Dirk. You've made him think he's actually into you. How could you let this happen?_

"You're not, John. I. No. You shouldn't even be here. None of this is okay. I should've stopped.. This."

"Dirk. I-" Geez, he feels like crying. Shit. He couldn't cry. Not like this. So he laces their fingers together, tries a small smile on his face, despite all of his emotions hitting him like a heavy truck at full speed. "You may think I'm an idiot, but I'm really not. I mean, I spent a lot of time with Vriska. I know manipulators. And you aren't one."

_But you are. That means you're just worse than Vriska. You're ruining him. You're ruining all of this. You're ruining John. He's crying, Dirk. What are you going to do?_

"But-... You aren't an idiot, not really- it's more complicated. I." _Stop. Just stop. Stop, Dirk._ "I'm not-.. I'm not tryin to be bad."

"Shh, shh, I know. I know." John gets off the edge of the workbench. Presses his head against Dirk's chest. Listens to his heartbeat. "And it's true - I know it's complicated. This is about Jake, isn't it?"

It's fast. Uncomfortably. He chokes on his words as he gets them out. Not because he's about to cry. But because he just doesn't want to say. "... I guess."

"It's okay to have a type." John closes his eyes. "It's good to admit things. Isn't that kind of what you said to me? Or at least, along the same wavelength."

"It's more than a type. It's you. It's him, but it's. It's different. Spiteful. Exploitative. Creepy. It's... You're just." He trips over words again. How can he say it without saying something offensive?

"Don't talk." John says, tipping up his chin to look at him. God, Dirk was beautiful. Even now, even when he was tripping over his words like a goddamn fool. He wasn't lying before when he said that there was a certain kind of beauty about him. "Just kiss me instead."

Confusion. A curiously tilted head. "But. I don't get it. I- it's clear this is all-" Why was he still pushing forward? Still willing? After he pushed him away and showed him how awful he was? He wasn't even hesitating. "But... John-.."

"Dirk. It's fine. You can't push me away." His hands feathered across his tank top, his fingers finding themselves linked with his own on Dirk's lower back. Now he had him trapped, both figuratively and literally. "I'm pretty stubborn."

It wasn't very often Dirk felt, or was, trapped. And he didn't even know if he minded it. A deflating breath. Maybe coming down back to himself a bit. "I. I can tell. You just..." ... "You really want me, huh."

"If you don't want to do anything to me, that's fine. And if you're still at war with these... complicated emotions, you can call me Jake. I don't mind." There's no hesitation in his voice, his stark blue eyes burning with a passion. "But I at least want to know what it feels like with an eight-inch cock up my ass." And he's taken aback by his own words, never knowing that he could sound like that. Dirk was bringing something out of him.

It's a double hit right there. _You can call me jake. I want to know what it feels like with an eight-inch cock up my ass._ He's almost taken aback. Little Egbert just. Did that.

"... Fuck. Where did all that come from, John? You're... For real?"

John nods. Then he stands on his toes and presses a gentle kiss to Dirk's jaw. Whispers in his ear, "I'm for real. Tonight is your night."

Another moment of duality is presented. He was too turned on by this. This definite, utter control. Playing into strange and terrible fantasies. The temptation. Or, he can take the other direction, and say no. Insist on his incredibly terrible influence, on the fact he's taking advantage of his adorable and bright-eyed virgin.

The other side wins this time.

"... On a scale of one. To ten. How hard."


	3. three.

John tugs Dirk closer presses their chests together. Kisses his neck. He murmurs, "At least a ten."

A little.

Gentle breath.

"... _You're sure?_ "

_He's giving you an out, John._

"I'm sure." Again, there was no trace of hesitation. "As I said, tonight is all yours." He smiles,

kisses the hollow of his collarbone,

runs his teeth gently across the skin there.

"All mine..." Dirk echoes. Heavy hands finding their places at his sides again. Over his waist. Down to his hips.

As if looking over every inch of his

brand

new

 _plaything_.

John had to admit that the way Dirk was staring at him turned him on, probably more than it should have. He gently tugs Dirk back toward the edge of the workbench, back to their original destination.

"All yours."

Dirk was taking his time now, even as he's lead back to the workbench he originally planned on fucking the boy senseless over. Now, who knows what that plan is. "Mine... Hope y'don't mind a bit of hurt, _Jake_."

There it is.

Emphasising with a sudden, harsh grip of John's crotch through his pants.

His eyes stutter backwards, showing white as he hissed in a gasp. His teeth latched to the tight skin on Dirk's collarbone.

"F-fuck!"

And somehow, he was turned on in some way that was unexplainable. He wasn't John. God, he was Jake. Jake _bloody_ English. And he liked it. He liked Dirk like this. Liked the way he got high off the power. The way he flicked the switch from one to a hundred.

It was something Dirk tried to avoid. It really was. This power trip. This feeling. A roiling, boiling hot storm of violence and hate and megalomania.

That degree of separation of "Jake but not" was enough to drive him over the edge, a hand immediately reaching up and gripping his delicate neck, pushing back and almost slamming the boy's back against the workbench with a loud rattle. Still groping, grabbing at his cock.

"Are you fuckin desperate, Jake? Pathetic?"

The sensation of the hand around John's neck, constricting his breathing, made his cock twitch.

Made him shiver at the chill of the workbench against his back, coupled with the sudden sting of pain that flared up at once.

By some miracle, he choked out an "I-I'm desperate, Dirk! I'm pathetic!" and he was.

He was beginning to come around to think - no, he had already come around to it. He was enjoying it. More than anyone should. His hands lifted, tugging at the hem of Dirk's tank top.

There was a twitch of a grin on Dirk's face as he heard that perfect, adorable echo from Ja- _John's_ lips. He released his crotch, only to haphazardly knock a few kilograms of technology off the side of the table, just to give more room to manhandle the shaking little thing. It was so hard to take his hands off of him. But it was worth it to get that fucking tank top off of him.

The sight made John groan, made him bite hard on his lip. His hands were on Dirk's heated skin at once, fingers skating across, trying to get the most out of this moment. The air that fills his throat is crisp and it stings slightly. He managed to whisper, "Don't you fucking dare take your time, Dirk Strider.", though it is faint and coarse.

That heated, perfect touch along limber and trained muscle, the sound of the course whisper with a panting undertone, and the simplicity of "Don't you fucking dare take your time"- Dirk was already rock fucking hard again. Before leaping back on top of the adorable boy, he finally fumbled out of his own black jeans and boxers, leaving his -

oh, nine inches of thick, drooling cock on clear display.

"If you're so fuckin sure, Jake.."

It's... _wow, that's big. Uh._

John had no idea if he was into big cocks or not, but Dirk's both intimidated him and interested him. The cold metal of the workbench wasn't the only thing that made him shiver in anticipation.

With his trembling pants and heaving of his chest, John lifted up his legs, locking them around Dirk's middle.

Shit. This was really going to happen. If his mind wasn't complete mush right now, he'd be backing out.

But that wasn't the case at all. Dirk was fucking hot, man.

It was all a whirlwind of feelings and sensations. But John's still wearing pants.

_He can't have that now, can he?_

Both hands move downwards and clutch the front fabric, and with a simple, nearly effortless-looking tug, they were shredded partially in half. With one more, they were completely ruined and discarded by his sides.

"Much fuckin better."

His back arched as he attempted to pull his shirt off himself, but his fingers felt like putty, felt as though they belonged to someone else. Anyone but him. His ankles locked together, his breath growing ragged from every single sensation. The air around him felt electric. A flare could touch the atmosphere and explode. Was it so bad that John wanted to see what would happen?

Dirk quickly gave the other's shirt the same treatment as his now ruined pants, with much more ease, shredding it off of his body to expose to rest of him, his thick and oversized cock already grinding eagerly against the boy's remaining boxers. "You pretty little doll..."

His blue eyes rolled backwards again, a loose smile on his face - unable to be wiped off. His toes curled. His lower lip was growing red from each time he had locked his teeth on the skin there. He was pretty. He was Dirk's pretty little doll. With his locked ankles around Dirk's waist, he pulled the other closer, just to feel his cock against his, only a thin layer of fabric separating the two.

Dirk leans closer, twitching cocks pressed and grinding together through that delicate fabric as Dirk looks over every adorable, pretty inch of him.

Dragging nails down his chest as he feels him up one last time, savouring his dearest prey with that grin still trying to tug at his lips.

"... You'd be easy to bruise, Jake..."

The nails at John's skin burn like a fiery river, making his cock twitch once more in delight. Dirk was right - both he and Jake were easy to bruise. It seemed that they were similar in more ways than one. He gave a small spasm, a moan tumbling out of his swollen lips. His head tipped back, consequently connecting with the workbench; hard.

Dirk actually laughed a little bit at that. Reflexive as he watched the other embarrass himself by slamming his own head against the cold metal of the bench. "Easy, Jake, you'll give yourself a concussion before I've even started with you."

He kept his head tipped back, throat bared. "Doesn't hurt- hope you'll hurt me more."

John actually feels him twitch at that. What a pretty little neck.

"I plan on it." To which, he finds a familiar grip, tightening around John's now bare and fragile neck.

He can still breathe, but there's a mounting pressure, and. Sheer domination. Maybe it would be enough to distract him from how even his boxers are being torn off now.

The hand at his neck made his moan through tightly-shut lips. A rumble echoing through his throat. The air was cold where fabric was ripped - no - torn off. Fuck, Dirk was strong.

His glasses were off-kilter, smudged to no end. He lifted his hands, somehow finding the arms of them and throwing them off. They landed somewhere in the room.

Oops.

"Aw. Guess you won't be able to see what I'm doin to you." Dirk gives another dry little laugh, every sound, every whimper, every shake only making him more eager to fuck the boy senseless.

Driven nearly fucking wild, their cocks now pressed together, hot and raw.

The skin contact was making him feel heated, up to the point that it was almost stifling.

"I-I trust you." His voice was flat and rough from the hand around his throat.

Shit, shit, shit. John already felt like he was close. After those three words, his lips clamped shut again in a desperate attempt to not let any noises escape.

"You shouldn't."

He squeezes harder. For just a second. Enough to show how easy it was to completely cut off any air. Dirk fidgets, finally moving back a little in the leg lock. Now, a much newer sensation, of the drooling, thick tip of his cock prodding at the entrance of his asshole.  
With no lube. Or prep.

John's hands clutched at the one around his neck. Not in a 'help me, get off me' way, but in a 'squeeze tighter' way. The Heir of Breath. Ironic. In the haze of his mind, he could barely register the thick head at his asshole. He was focused on the high of the limited air that was reaching his brain.

"You'd never let me fuck you raw before, Jake. Guess I'll just take it." Dirk is happy to oblige, clutching tighter again.

There's barely an inch of air going to the boy.

With a rush of cruel, horrible power- Dirk _shoves_ forward. Raw, thick, painful cock, stuffing into John's virgin, untrained, unlubed little asshole. A good few inches.

Without a hint of hesitation.

John's mouth opens, a rasp of nothing filling the air. He's imitating a goldfish - mouth open uselessly, silently. His eyes bulged, bright blue, the wrong colour, and John knew it. Fuck- Dirk- His mind was nearing a blank slate, but he could register the hot, throbbing pain of Dirk's cock. Shit. SHIT.

His face felt numb.

His skin began to tingle.

He was being _torn_ apart, ripped from the seams just like his clothes.

"Fh. Fuckin perfect. Look at you. Fuckin _worthless_ , Jake."

He keeps that same, agonising grip as Dirk stuffs the boy's raw, stretching and agonised little asshole more, shoving another few inches inside with sadistic glee. He hadn't even hit his prostate yet. It just hurt.

The tingles rushing through John's face had grown violent, with the boy no longer able to feel his own lips past the crackling of blood loss. Was he bleeding? Was he torn? His legs began to lose their grip around Dirk's waist.

Dirk didn't seem to care. He forces John's head down more, hitting it against the table one more time as he shoves in the last of his cock, nine inches of raw, painful fuckmeat.

Asshole stretched, quivering and unprepared.

Hot.

He was enjoying the other's expression. The look. The way he slowly seemed to go limp. At least he finally hammered his tip against the boy's prostate?

"Hm? No whimpers? No whines? No begging? You cock-hungry doll. Pff. I think you're fuckin bleeding on me."

The pleasure finally hit John, but it was minuscule to everything else he was feeling. Every single overwhelming sensation was building up inside of him and he came, splashing thin white over Dirk's stomach. His legs dropped from their position around his waist. His eyelashes fluttered like butterflies with damaged wings. Tragically beautiful. Heat slowly dripped down from between his legs.

"I knew you fuckin loved this. Depraved little fuckin toy."

Oh, Dirk was enjoying himself, watching the trembling, stunned little thing cum so easily over his stomach.

But he was barely getting started with him. With his ass violated and bleeding, the locked legs (as well as the rest of John's body) mostly limp, he draws that violent, thick cock back, and jams it in again. Making it fit.

And again.

And again.

Bump.

Bump. Bump.

In the fog of John's mind - within his oxygen-starved brain - he reached out and grabbed ahold of Dirk's tanktop. In his mind, he thought that he was gripping on tightly, but in reality, he was barely grazing the surface. There was not a single thought in his mind that ran coherent. His hands soon fell to the side, hitting the workbench. His head lolled to one side, eyelashes fluttering continuously. His body was a puppet to Dirk's whims and actions.

Just as Dirk liked it. And before he saw John's head haplessly roll to the side, and sees his grasping hand fall limp by his side with a thump, feeling the boy's limp, twitching body- he had no idea he was into it. Now it made so much fucking sense. He really did love puppets. So he doesn't stop for a second, in fact letting out a hungry, threatening groan as he fucked his poor little asshole without a hint of remorse. Or restraint.

"Useless... ngh- helpless rapedoll.."

Something was horribly wrong.

The wild synchronisation of Dirk's cock jamming in and out of his asshole thudded in his mind. Gave him something to hold onto. John liked it - it gave Dirk something to hold onto. This way, they could both grab onto something less tangible than most things. To him, this gave him an access to tap into his powerful side.

And to John, well, it gave him experience.

Only one of them really knew that this was experience you absolutely shouldn't have. Thump. Thump. Thump. Steady, agonising pumps of every last inch of his cock, ramming against his prostate and stretching his as without mercy.

Power. Fucking _power_ man.

He could just keep John like this. Nothing was making him let go. What if he doesn't? What if he just keeps him there? Utter, brutal domination. Forcing a sickening grin to his panting lips.

The euphoric thrill of constricted breathing had long since faded and he almost couldn't remember why he had come around in the first place. He only knew that Dirk was inside him and that those dots swimming around in his vision were gathering fast. Lightheaded, his eyes slipped shut. He told himself silently to open them. He tried. Failed. Oh well.

_Come on, Dirk, please. You have another crossroads_.

Y _ou're standing over John, violating his ass, strangling him brutally, watching him go limp. You can see his eyes close. He's passing out, Dirk. He's losing consciousness and you're still going. If you don't slow down, if you don't stop-_  
The only thing Dirk changes is what his other hand is doing. One doesn't even budge on his neck, bruising him, choking him, the other grabbing his leg and _forcing_ it back, pinning it along John's exposed body to give him a deeper, even harder angle into his ass.

There was a tinge at John's lips - blue. The same blue as his eyes. Translucent but slowly growing more opaque by the second. His cracked lips more wordlessly, unable to form any kind of noise beyond a rasping inhale that was both short, static, and ineffective in any sense of the word. He forced himself to open his eyes, even slightly. The dark dots dance between his fine eyelashes, drool sliding down the sides of his mouth.

He's going blue, Dirk, you're going too far. 

_But just a bit longer. Just a bit more, you don't have to stop yet, Dirk. Why would you? You need to show him. You control him. You control when he breathes. You can control when he dies if you want to. Just push a bit more._

He's so fucking hard, he's so fucking horny, pounding him

like an _animal_

as he admires the effects of his work, the absentness in his gaze, the drool dripping from his mouth, fuck he doesn't want to stop. After such ruthless, brutal abuse, and finding fetishes nobody should ever know they have, he's getting kind of messy.

"Fuck, Jake- ngh, I'm gonna finish in you..-"

John barely registers his voice, only that he should make an attempt at a nod. Only he doesn't, and he's in a faraway place than where he is, back and head pressed hard to the cold steel of the workbench at Dirk's place. He should be scared. But he wasn't. The concept of death had long since been desensitised for him. Was he still immortal in the sense of the Game? It was going to be fine in the end.

Even Dirk had forgotten at this point.

They were both "immortal". But the fact such a thought didn't even cross his mind should make John even more scared.

Dirk bottoms out, and squeezes that much harder. Not a single ounce of air or anything close as he forces his leg back even more, pinning his ankle up by his head as he uses the boy's barely conscious body like a fleshlight, rocking him against the table brutally, almost thumping his head against the wall with every violent, and primal thrust from a cock too big to fit inside him. But he'd been making it.

"Gh- fuck, fuck you, you worthless, twitching little- _rapepuppet--!_ " With a last, deep, growling groan, without even slowing down, Dirk fills his stretched and bleeding little asshole with thick cum. The heaviest load he'd ever given, the one-sided orgasm lasting a solid and painful fifteen seconds for the boy.

His head collides painfully with the wall, a dull pain melting down from the crown of his head. His back burns from the inflictions the workbench had given him, raw skin scraped against a nail that Dirk hadn't managed to swipe away. He's bleeding there, he was sure of it. There's another burn at the back of his thigh from where Dirk is holding him from his ankle, a streamline of blatant pain. There must be blood everywhere - it felt like there was. His body was covered in sweat, blood, and tears. Quite literally. And he was mindless, completely compliant to everything. When Dirk filled him up, John's tongue became limp, falling to the side of his mouth.

Warmth.

Warmth at his back,

warmth between his legs, and a sparkling tingle at his blue lips.

So much perfect, tantalising blood from his worthless and mindless toy. The view on its own was enough to get Dirk to round two with the mess of an unconscious doll, but...

No. No, just take a moment. Even if the view of that limp, adorable body, his tongue, the drool, the sheer idea he could do anything he damn well pleases to him even now, even if it would hurt, _especially_ if it would hurt, and that John wouldn't just not complain, he wouldn't struggle. Probably wouldn't even twitch.

After a last few seconds of being completely hilted against his prostate, in his bleeding, violated asshole, gripping his neck without mercy- he _finally_ pulls out. And he even lets go.

All at once, fresh air shoves its way down John's throat, a crisp, foreign feeling. His chest heaved in as he sucked in oxygen.

In and out.

In.

Out.

For a moment, he didn't move, consciousness and the ability to move coming back to him in gentle waves. His fingers gave a small spasm. His toes twitched.

Dirk is coming back to his own body. He was panting, hard. Sweating. His hands both trembling from the effort and adrenaline lingering through him. His cock still hard for the moment, drooling with cum and the poor boy's blood as he takes that step back. Doesn't even speak for the moment, just. Watching the other.

With a shuddering gasp, his eyes snap open. Stares blankly at the wall, aware of the painful but dull thuds around his body, but especially the back of his head and his asshole. He can't seem to find the words, not just yet.

Finally, Dirk clears his throat. Still unable to pull his eyes off him. Even now, as that bruise on his neck blossoms, he looked tantalising. Adorable.  
_... Did you really do that, Dirk?_  
_To him?_

"... You're good."


End file.
